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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773291">Ring</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LannisterQueen/pseuds/LannisterQueen'>LannisterQueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:47:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LannisterQueen/pseuds/LannisterQueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A golden cage is still just a cage, after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tiffin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Teeny-tiny drabble about Tiffin's feelings on her engagement.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Delicate fingers restlessly turn similarly delicate ring; a habit she had picked up since being made to wear the wretched thing. In truth, it was a rather lovely thing, a thin band of silver adorned with small gems, two white and a blue one at the center, gems tinier yet adorning the rest of the piece. It was a beautiful ring, likely the finest piece of jewelry she had ever possessed, certainly the most costly she had worn in years. The locket had been the only thing she had kept with her throughout the years; there hadn’t been much time to bother with jewelry when war hit and she had to abandon home, holding on to her brother’s hand as they ran in attempt to find some safety from the orcish horde. When they were able to return, she payed no mind to looking for whatever may have remained, either.</p><p>Some may have judged this to be the cause of her incessant tugging at it, that Tiffin had grown unaccustomed to the feeling of something as simple as wearing a ring. Some may yet deem her vain, think that the reason for her to play with the engagement ring was to make it more noticeable. Both would be wrong; her discomfort has little to do with how the silver band feels against her skin, all to do with how its meaning tugs at her heart.</p><p>It is beautiful, yes; it is a shackle also.</p><p>She remembers something of Varian Wrynn, little though it may be. Before the war, the betrothal had been great source of distress, but with the war it had been pushed aside as unimportant (it might not ever come to be, after all; when days had turned to be about surviving, the distant future was scarcely of concern). They had been children when they met, and she knows she had disliked him as much as he evidently disliked her. Tiffin had had three living brothers, then, instead of one, and both parents to scold her on her attitude towards the young prince. Now there was father alone instead of father and mother both, and he had sought to back Varian against the wall to go through with it, perhaps in as firm manner as towards her when she dared speak against it. <i>You are no child anymore, and I will hear none of that </i>— true to his word, he had not. She, who had long learned you cannot make the unwilling listen no matter how loud you shout, had not attempted even another whispered word.</p><p>The sole brother she had left now had tried to soothe her instead, as he always had. Tried, but he too did not understand; no amount of promises she would have every comfort, every care, would be enough to soothe her heart. <i>He will treat you right, or I shall settle it with him myself</i>; yet even in that her brother failed to see what tore at her was not fear.</p><p>Her prison had no bars. Better than many, she knew; but a prison of fine silks and expensive jewelry was a prison nevertheless, and hers came with a crown she wanted as little as the husband she had been sentenced to.</p><p>A golden cage is still just a cage, after all.</p>
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